A Tale of Two Souls
by saelysia-the-greater
Summary: "A soul mate is something so precious, a person who completes you so wholly that you could never live without them. This is where your tale begins, the battle to protect everything that you love. The tale of two souls." Formerly New Perspective. Rated M for slash and foul language. Snarry, Neville/Hermione, Ron/Draco.


**A Tale of Two Souls**

_**Prologue - The Heart is Hard to Translate**_

_A/N: Hello again, everyone! Here is the re-write for _New Perspective,_ now called _A Tale of Two Souls._ I came up with a brilliant plotline that captures the essence of the old stories, as well as bringing in something new and elaborating on previous plotlines. I hope you all enjoy it as much I enjoy re-writing it. Now, as a warning, I am taking four AP classes this year, so updating may be a little hard for me. I really need to focus this year, because I need to get a 4 or 5 in three subjects (two of which have to be Bio and Chemistry) on the AP exams in order to even begin thinking about applying to St. Bart's Medical School. I will try my hardest to write around that, because I'm looking forward to this story._

_"Devil's Backbone" by The Civil Wars, "All This and Heaven Too" by Florence + the Machine, and "Royals" by Lorde helped this chapter come to be._

* * *

"_Lily."_

_Lily Potter looked up from the book resting just above her swollen stomach, smiling tiredly at Xenophilius Lovegood, who stood nervously in the doorway of her sitting room. She waved a hand to bring him closer, but he shook his head meekly, shifting his weight from foot to foot._

"_Xeno?" she asked, concerned. "What's wrong?" She straightened in her chair, closing the book and setting it down on the table beside of her. _

"_Lily, I…. I had a vision," he said thickly, his eyes on the floor. His face was hidden behind the veil of his light blond hair, shielding the tears pricking at his bright blue eyes. "I had a vision, and I tried – I tried, Lily, to get rid of it. I don't want it. I never wanted it—"_

"_Xeno," Lily interrupted, alarmed by her friend's sudden desperation. She brought herself to her feet, shuffling across the room to him. Her hands clasped his chin and gently lifted his head, her green eyes staring earnestly into his. "Xeno, darling, what is it? Did it scare you?"_

"_Yes, yes it scared me," Xeno whispered. "It scared me, Lily." His eyes welled, shining and wide as he tried to avoid the loving, tender gaze that he knew would only be the ruin of him. "You….you and James were in it."_

_Lily's eyes widened at his tone of finality, and her hands dropped away to protectively wrap around her stomach. "And the baby?" she asked, her voice timid._

_Xenophilius shrugged, and then shook his head. "I'm not sure," he said. "But Lily, you….you and James….you died. You were killed."_

_Green eyes filled with tears, and Lily took a step back from Xenophilius, one hand floating to cover her mouth, maybe to force a sob to stay silent. She searched Xenophilius' face for any signs of doubt, and a small gasp of pain escaped her when she found none._

"_Lily," Xenophilius started, his throat dry, "I think your baby, your Harry, will be fine. I saw….I don't know what I saw. But I think he'll find someone to protect him."_

_Lily's eyes strayed to her wrist, where her tattoo, the black outline of a stag, peaked out from beneath the sleeve of her sweater. "Do you.…do you think….?"_

_Xenophilius sighed and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around his friend tightly, her head resting on his shoulder as he rubbed a circle on her back. "I don't know, Lily," he whispered. "There's so much that I don't know. It's never clear for me. I only get bits and pieces, shadows and shapes. I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm frightened for you and James and your family."_

_Lily pressed her face into the material of Xeno's shirt, a shuddering breath going through her as she steadied herself. "We can't tell James," she said quietly, lifting her head. "He can't know."_

"_But..."_

"_He can't know," she repeated with conviction. "He'll lose his head and do some incredibly reckless, idiotically brave thing and I'll lose him. I can't go through that. Not yet." A sharp pang echoed through her heart, the skin around her tattoo seeming as if had began to ache. "Not after what it took to bring us together."_

_Xenophilius nodded, sighing and closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, Lily," he whispered. "I wish there was something that I could do to stop this. Everything."_

"_I do too, Xeno," Lily muttered, resting her head back on his shoulder. They stood there for what seemed like ages, until a noise at the front door had them both reaching for their wands._

_James Potter entered the sitting room, an easy smile on his face, his hazel eyes lighting up at the sight of his wife. "James Potter, Marauder, commonly known as Prongs," he said without prompting, his grin falling when he saw Lily's red eyes and sad expression. "Lils, what's wrong?"_

"_Hm? Oh," Lily sniffed, rubbing at her eyes as he came to her, enveloping her in his arms. "Pregnancy hormones, that's all." She smiled tearily at him, disarming him with a swift kiss. "They've been up and down all day."_

"_Are you sure?" James asked, concern taking over his entire being, his eyes running up and down her body. "Are you alright? Is anything bothering you? Do we need to get a Healer?"_

_Lily could have laughed at his questioning, her heart tightening as she thought about how much James truly loved her, and she him. It made her smile to see him panic over the slightest things, that he showed so much concern whenever he thought that something was even slightly askew. _

"_No, James, I'm fine," she lied, "and there's nothing wrong. I promise."_

_Xenophilius rested himself against the doorway, his hair shielding his face once more. Lily didn't need to look at him to sense the waves of displeasure and sorrow rolling off of him. She sighed silently, smiling brightly at James. _

"_I was just about to start supper," she said. "Would you like to help me?"_

"_You should be sitting down and resting!" James protested. "I'll make supper. I want you and Xeno stay in here and read or whatever it is you two get up to when I'm gone. I'll handle everything." He smiled at her, kissing her forehead before disentangling himself and heading for the kitchen. Lily fought back a mad giggle, knowing that James would be calling for her help in about five minutes. He was useless in the kitchen._

_Her smile slipped off of her face as she watched his retreating figure, the weight of the keeping Xeno's vision from him already suffocating her. How many more lies would she feed him before it was too late?_

_Behind her, Xenophilius bit back a choked sob, his knees buckling. He knew this was the curse of the Seer, to be able to See but not to intervene. He had no way of saving his friends from their Fate, just as they had no way of saving themselves. He closed his eyes and tried to fight the bile rising in his throat. _

_Lily and James Potter were going to die._

_His friends, his dear friends, were going to die._

_And he was unable to save them._

* * *

Harry turned over in his bed, his skin soaked with a cold sweat and his heart pounding. He felt as if his head were going to split in two, his throat feeling like it had been scraped raw. He gagged on the bitter taste in his mouth, like he had bitten his tongue and it was bleeding.

Sitting up slowly, trying to calm his erratic breathing, Harry looked around his bedroom, sometimes still unfamiliar to him though he had been living there for the majority of the summer. The curtains that fluttered by the wide windows caught his attention, and he focused on them as he returned to a state of full consciousness.

He could have groaned aloud at the pain in his head, thudding and aching so sharply that he saw spots dancing behind his vision. He knew that Sirius would have had Headache Reliever in the kitchen, but he was unsure if he would be able to support himself upright for the trip from his room to the kitchen.

Gritting his teeth, Harry drew back the covers, sliding his feet forward onto the cool hardwood floor. He braced one arm against the bedpost, lifting himself up even as fireworks went off in his head, stars exploding behind his eyes. He screwed his eyes shut as a wave of nausea and dizziness washed through him, and he waited a moment before he was sure that he could step forward.

He groped about blindly in the darkness for a heartbeat, trying to locate his glasses from the nightstand beside him. He slid them onto his nose when he found them, his eyes focusing and the pain receding the slightest bit.

Harry shuffled slowly across his bedroom, leaning against the doorframe momentarily when he felt as if he would fall over. He swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat, another wave of dizziness passing over him.

_You can do this,_ he told himself. _You've gotten through worse._

Slowly, surely, he eased himself through the silent, winding hallways of Grimmauld Place, down the back staircase, taking care to avoid the step that he knew creaked angrily when any weight was put on it, and carefully slid into the kitchen.

He squinted his eyes at the light in the corner, the one that they always left lit in case anyone needed to use the kitchen in the middle of the night – the thought had crossed their minds before – and he went forward to grab one of the purple bottle of medicine on the counter.

He pulled the stopper out of it and drank it quickly, frowning at the awful taste as it slid down his throat. He sighed when he felt the headache immediately starting to fade, the pounding in his ears ceasing and leaving him with some sense of relief.

"Another nightmare?"

Harry jumped and whirled, fumbling for his wand on instinct, only to curse mentally when he realised that he had left it in his room. He shook his head, pressing a hand over his heart as Remus smiled gently at him from the kitchen table.

"Give me some warning next time, yeah?" Harry muttered, setting the now empty bottle of Headache Reliever down on the counter. "What are you doing down here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Remus said patiently. He gestured for Harry to take a seat across from him, his eyes looking aged and tired. Harry slid into the chair, ruffling his hair nervously. "What was this one about?"

Harry bit his lip, looking down at the table, and then up at Remus. "It was my mum," he said quietly. "She was talking to me, trying to get my attention, but I couldn't hear her. I could only see her. And I kept shouting to her, asking what she wanted, but she couldn't tell me." He shook his head. "Then it was Cedric and the tournament. I watched Cedric die again, and then I saw him."

"Him?" Remus prompted, though he knew the answer.

"Voldemort," Harry whispered. "He was laughing at me, and my entire body felt cold and my head felt like it was about to burst into a million pieces. I was in so much pain and I…." He swallowed, shaking his head once more. "These dreams aren't like the others, Remus. They aren't like the visions he was sending me."

Remus reached across the table and took Harry's hands in his own. "I'm afraid I'm no expert on the matters of dreams, Harry," he said quietly. "But maybe you should write to Dumbledore about them. He might be able to think of something that can help you."

Harry lifted his head to look at his godfather's mate, the scarred face that smiled kindly at him, the love in his amber eyes, and Harry felt his heart thud in his chest. "Alright," he consented. "I'll write him in the morning."

"Good boy," Remus said, squeezing his hands once before releasing them. "I heard you tossing and turning earlier, which is why I came downstairs. I knew you'd make your way down here."

Harry flushed slightly. "Sorry, Remus," he said, knowing that with his accelerated hearing it often made it hard for Remus to sleep. "I try to be quiet, I really do."

"I'd rather be woken up if you're having a nightmare," Remus said. "You didn't have anyone to comfort you when you had a nightmare as a child, so I'm trying to make up for lost time." He said the last bit sadly, and it twisted Harry's heart.

"You couldn't have known," Harry whispered, this conversation seeming as if it had been repeated a hundred times. "They wouldn't have let me live with you anyway. Even Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to step in."

"I know, Harry," Remus answered. "Sometimes, though, I can't help but feel upset that Sirius and I missed your childhood. That's why Sirius tries to baby you so much, because he didn't get to do it when you were younger."

Harry smiled knowingly, amused at his godfather's antics. "I know, Remus, and if it's any consolation, I'm happier being here with you two than I've ever been in my life."

Remus' eyes lit up, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "We love you, Harry," he said softly, clearing his throat when he caught sight of the clock behind Harry's head. "Now, as your guardian, I'm afraid I have to order you back to bed. It's late, and you should try to get some sleep."

Harry playfully groaned, shaking his head dramatically. "Worst guardian ever," he said teasingly. "Trying to make me do things that are good for me.

"Who knows, maybe tomorrow I'll make you eat your vegetables."

Harry snorted, smiling at Remus before pushing away from the table and standing. "Goodnight, Remus," he said. "You try to get some sleep as well, alright? I don't want you wearing yourself down."

"Yes sir," Remus said sternly, ushering Harry on with an impatient gesture of his hand. "Off to bed before I start using my authoritative voice."

"You have one of those?"

"Bed, Harry."

When he was back in his room, instead of going immediately to bed, he went to the window, pressing his face against the cool glass and stared out over the city, looking down at a young couple who were strolling down the street, hand in hand, leaning against one another on their way home from the pub, the girl tossing her black hair back to laugh at something the boy said.

Harry felt his heart ache slightly, wishing that he could be that carefree, not ever having to worry about some reptilian madman who was always trying to kill him and his friends. It would be nice to explore the city of London with Ron and Hermione and Neville and Luna, with Hermione listing off random facts about the history, Ron and Neville looking around confusedly at the Muggle technology. Ron and Hermione would start arguing about something, while Neville would simply sigh and try to play peacekeeper and Luna would simply wander around, giggling to herself about the Nargles and Fizzlebubs.

He smiled at the thought of his friends, slipping back under the covers and removing his glasses, fidgeting slightly at a sudden itching feeling between his shoulder blades. When he was comfortable, he closed his eyes and slept, not worrying about another dream that night.

* * *

Down in the kitchen, Remus sighed into his hands, lifting his eyes towards the ceiling as if he were searching for an answer up in the rafters.

He could feel the full moon creeping upon him, weighing him down and tiring him out, the ache in his bones and body. He shook his head, knowing that despairing about it wasn't going to make it any easier on him. Even after years, the transformation was still painful, though the emotional toll had lessened when he and Sirius had been reunited.

The wolf recognised that he was with his mate, and Remus had given up on trying to be combative with him. Slowly, he was trying to become more accepting of what he was, though it was a long process, one that often kept him up at night, along with Harry's nightmares.

"That poor boy," he whispered to himself, running a hand over his eyes before slipping upstairs, into Sirius' waiting embrace.

"The nightmares are getting worse, aren't they?" Sirius slurred, his voice heavy with sleep. He nuzzled the side of Remus' neck as Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius, his breath hot against his skin.

"They are," Remus answered, resting his head on top of Sirius' head and closing his eyes. "They are."

* * *

Xenophilius Lovegood stared down into the yard from his bedroom window, watching as his daughter, his Luna, chattered happily with the Wrackspurts, their glowing forms buzzing around her as they whispered their secrets in her ear.

He sighed heavily, his entire body aching with the knowledge that his daughter had inherited his Seer abilities. He had hoped that she would have taken after her mother, Selene, but it seemed that Fate liked to play cruel tricks.

She had shown the signs when she was younger, small things, but he had prayed that it had only been childhood intuition, incidental occurrences that meant nothing. Selene often joked that Luna would grow up to be a true prophetess, to which Xenophilius would laugh and agree quietly, but in his heart he feared for her.

He watched now as Luna danced around the garden, her nightgown flowing freely around her legs as a Wrackspurt lifted a tendril of her hair, her head tossed back in laughter and freedom. She had had her first vision that evening, during their supper, but she had no recollection of it.

Xenophilius had no memories of his first vision, but when he had roused himself from the momentary darkness following a vision, his mother had quietly explained his heritage to him, her large blue eyes filled with tears, pride, and fear.

Every Seer was proud to see that their child had such immense power, to be knowledgeable of things that were to come, that had been, but they also knew the heartbreak, the anger, the sorrow that came with such a great and terrible Gift.

Xenophilius turned away from the window, his heart sinking in his chest, and his eyes fell upon the picture of Lily and James Potter on their wedding day, both of their youthful faces shining brightly with joy and happiness.

Xenophilius fell to his knees, a sob wracking his body, like it had when James had come to him, demanding to know what he had seen in his last vision of them. Lily, troubled with the weight of the secret and the stress of lying to James, had spoken about it in her sleep. James had waited until the very next day, finding Xenophilius and dragging the answer from him.

He could still recall the shock in those hazel eyes, the tears that had filled them when he thought about his child growing up without his parents, the thought of his beloved wife, so vibrant and lovely, no longer breathing. Xenophilius had cursed himself, sobbing into James' chest as he recounted all that he had seen.

"_Don't worry, Xeno,_" James had said. _"Don't cry. Everything will be alright."_

"Lily, James," Xenophilius choked out, clasping his hands in front of him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Forgive me, please. My Luna…she…she's like me. She has the Gift. I….I hope she can do better by Harry than I ever did by you."

He closed his eyes, his hands held to his chest, until he heard Luna return inside in the early hours of the morning, her laughter subsiding as she sensed the somber atmosphere of the house, her Gift leading her to her father's room, her eyes widening at the sight of her father kneeling on the floor as if in prayer.

"Daddy?" she asked tentatively, her voice sounding small to her own ears. She knelt down in front of him, taking his shaking hands in her own in a gesture of comfort, searching his haggard, blank face for a sign of emotion. "What's wrong? The Wrackspurts say that you are unhappy. Have I done something?"

"Oh, my Luna," he said tiredly, his eyes blinking slowly as they came into focus. "You have done nothing wrong. Sit beside me, child, and allow your father to share a story with you." He lowered himself further on the floor, holding his arms open to Luna. She nestled under his shoulder, looking up at his face expectantly, like she had done as a child when she was expecting a bedtime story.

"A long time ago, when I was just a bit younger than you were, my dear…"

* * *

Hermione kicked her feet back and forth in the warm water, her jeans rolled up to her knees as she leaned back on her arms, staring up at the stars that were just starting to come out, the sun that was starting to sink. She heard her mother and father talking behind her, their voices low and quiet, but she paid them no mind.

The wood of the dock was still warm from the summer sunlight, smooth underneath her palms as she looked out across the water, her face flushing slightly as Neville emerged from under the water, shaking his head to push his soaked hair away from his eyes. Her stomach flip-flopped as he grinned lopsidedly at her, lowering himself back underwater and swimming towards her.

Since term had ended, she and Neville had been almost inseparable, spending time together almost every day, going on day trips around the country, having picnics on the beach in West Cornwall, much to the amusement of Hermione's mother and father. They had insisted that they were only just friends, but Hermione knew that she wanted to be more than just friends with Neville. She didn't know, however, how Neville felt about her, but she was sure that he didn't feel the same way.

She laughed quietly when she felt his hand snake gently round her ankle, tugging on it as he surface again, his grin wide and crooked, making her heart sputter and start to race. She felt a pool of warmth in her lower stomach and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Stop that, Neville," she said, her voice sounding nervous and shaky. "I'll fall in."

"Maybe that's the point," he teased, tugging on her ankle once more.

She kicked her other foot at him, splashing him with a small spray of water. She giggled, shaking her head as his grin turned feral, and she felt a harder tug on her ankle, pulling her forward just a little bit. "Neville, don't you-"

She cut off with a shriek as he pulled her harder, a momentary panic overcoming her as she went beneath the surface of the water, her lungs fighting back at the sudden lack of oxygen, her vision blackening, but her head broke through the surface as strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her up.

She spluttered, her chest heaving as she fought for breath, her cheeks blushing hotly when she realised that she was pressed up against Neville's firm, toned chest. She coughed harshly, her long, curly hair plastered to her face.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry!" Neville cried. "I didn't actually mean to-"

He was interrupted by her laughter, bright and sunny as she splashed water at him, shrieking in delight as he splashed her back, capturing her in his arms again when she tried to move away from him, pinning her and pulling her down under with him, giving her a chance to hold her breath.

She felt his hands on her hips, touching her bare skin as the hem of her shirt lifted slightly, sending a shiver through her. Her eyes were open, though she couldn't see much under the water.

When she felt the need for air, she pushed away from him and went up, wiping impatiently at her face to brush her hair away. Neville followed shortly after, grinning and laughing.

"I really am sorry, Hermione," he said, though his laughter took some of the sincerity from his apology.

"I forgive you," she said, rolling her eyes. "Now come on. I need to go dry myself off." She smiled at him, her heart stuttering at the soft look in his eyes, and she turned away, swimming until her feet could touch the bottom. She shivered when the night air touched her wet skin, but she still felt warm and flushed from being so close to Neville, her cheeks burning bright red.

Absently-mindedly, she scratched at her forearm, calling out to her mother to fetch her her wand.

* * *

Draco Malfoy splashed ice cold water on his face, his hands trembling violently as the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse wracked through his body, one spasm nearly sending him to the floor. He grit his teeth, determined not to cry aloud for fear that his father would hear, and put him under the curse once more for his weakness.

He spit a globule of blood into the sink, the inside of his cheek raw and aching from his teeth biting down painfully into the soft flesh to hold in his screams as his father stood over him, his eye cold, his face a mask, looking like a complete stranger to him. His heart was still racing painfully in his chest, his nerves blistering and burning.

His father had come home early that night, surprising his mother and Draco as they were eating supper together in the dining room, announcing that he had news from the Dark Lord concerning Draco's future. Draco had felt his stomach drop to his feet, a wave of nausea rolling through him as he considered the thought of receiving the Dark Mark, working for that sadistic bastard like a useless sycophant.

Sometimes he was amazed that someone as proud as his father would bow down in service, kissing the robes of someone who wasn't even entirely human. Draco shivered, his empty stomach roiling. His mother had looked at him in alarm, though her face was carefully schooled into the mask she always wore when Lucius was home.

Lucius, taking his seat at the head of the table, looked pointedly at Draco, the face that was so like Draco's closed off and foreign to him, Lucius' own son.

"I have spoken to the Dark Lord, Draco," Lucius began, his voice arrogant and commanding, intending to make Draco feel small, powerless, worthless before his father. Draco hated that it worked. "He was most interested in your admittance into his ranks, into the Inner Circle should you prove yourself."

Draco kept his eyes on the table, not looking at his father as Lucius spoke to him, submissive, cowed, just the way that Lucius wanted him. His father was a manipulative bastard who got off on controlling others, Draco and Narcissa included.

"Isn't that wonderful Draco," Narcissa said, her voice tight and controlled, but Draco could hear the strain underneath of her panic. "The Dark Lord is taking a personal interest in your future."

The cold, heavy silence that followed weighed on Draco, who hunched his shoulders and clenched his fists in his lap, staring at the elaborately carved table edges instead of chancing a look at either of his parents.

"I told the Dark Lord that you were eager and willing to join at once," Lucius continued smoothly. "You wanted to join as soon as you had turned 16, but that your mother and I were concerned for your schooling, and felt that we should prepare you further for his service before allowing you to take the Mark."

Draco could have snorted in contempt if he hadn't been so terrified. His heart stopped, lungs stalling, brain slowing. He was motionless with fear. He didn't want to join the Death Eaters. He didn't want to serve the Dark Lord. He didn't want to become another child soldier, sacrificing himself for a cause that he didn't believe in.

_Is this how Potter feels_?

He shoved the thought away before he lost his focus, listening to his father continue speaking about his future.

"He agreed with our concerns," Lucius said, "but he has ordered that you take the Dark Mark at the end of the summer, before term begins, so that you may serve him from Hogwarts."

Blood roared in Draco's ears, small black dots dancing in front of his vision. He lifted his head in shock, his mouth falling open, his eyes immediately seeking out his mother. Her blue eyes were wide, unable to contain the surprise in them. They stared at one another for an immeasurable amount of time, silently screaming.

"Lucius, why-"

"No."

Lucius and Narcissa both turned to Draco, who had pushed away from the table, his body trembling.

"Excuse me?" Lucius asked coldly.

"I said, 'No'."

* * *

Ron Weasley sat up in bed, his heart pounding, an agonising pain burning through his body, his skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. His throat felt raw, as if he had been screaming, but he found himself unable to make a sound.

His eyes wide, he threw the blanket off of him, jumping out of his bed and pacing around the small attic room he called his own, his breath coming in ragged gasps, shuddering, soundless sobs that tore through him. The right side of his chest burned as if he had been branded, the skin feverish and flaming.

He had dreamt of that voice again, the small, sad one that called to him, asking him for help. It sound so familiar, like someone from a memory of a long time ago, but he couldn't quite place where he knew it from. But it tore at his heart, listening to that small voice scream in pain and agony.

He heard Ginny's urgent footsteps on the stairs, his bedroom door flying open as his little sister launched herself at him, the feel of her small, lithe body wrapping around him soothing the pain slightly, He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo.

"Ronald, I heard you screaming," she gasped. "You were screaming but you were silent. Ron, I can't…" She broke off with a sob, pressing her face into his chest. "Why does this keep happening to us?"

"I don't know," he breathed, his throat and chest aching with the effort of talking. "I honestly don't know."

* * *

_The tale of two souls begins with the sorrows of others._

* * *

_So that was the prologue of _A Tale of Two Souls_! Let me know if you enjoyed it (which would make me so very happy), if you hated it (which would make me sad, but I would disregard it anyway), and what you loved or hated about it. Reviews are like chocolate-mint tea on a cold autumn morning. _

_Love and affections,_

_Sael_


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